


My Darling Curse

by WhenRomanceSmoked



Series: Brilliancy [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Everyone has humanized names, F/M, Martyrstuck, Offscreen character death, Post SBRUB/SGRUB, Sibling Incest, Sibling Love, Tags to change as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 20:48:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenRomanceSmoked/pseuds/WhenRomanceSmoked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series:  They are breaking the world they made.  The Game is over only so long as they follow the rules.  Happiness, however, was never a stipulation they thought to include.  Winning once and for all will require a brilliancy.</p><p>My Darling Curse:<br/>Dave sighs himself, drawing her a little closer so he can kiss her again.  He trails his fingertips down Rose's neck, over her collarbones.  Instead of being comforted, being turned on even, Rose feels the weight of her pocket and sighs.</p><p>She has to tell him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Darling Curse

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Brilliancy series, co-written by Mitena. Fic and chapter titles are taken from the song of the same name, My Darling Curse, by Magnet. My Darling Curse falls about mid-story in the Brilliancy series, I am simply posting it first.
> 
> I lied. Going to upload what I have of this in my spare time despite the fact it's been Jossed like seven billion times over by now.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] \--

TG: lalonde you up  
TG: of course you are where are you not home right want some company  
TG: this is the part where you say yes  
TT: I take it everything is not well on the home front.  
TG: what gives you that impression everything is right as rain up in here just thought you could use a dose of strider  
TG: a healthy application of my body to yours make sure you dont wind up sleeping with the fishes  
TG: and by fish i mean horrorterrors keep you safe since you still seem to be lacking on that front right  
TT: You're babbling.  
TG: youre being awful direct so keep it up you want company or not  
TT: You know I wouldn't refuse you the opportunity. I'd rather like having you close.  
TT: Still a bit shaken, as you may understand.  
TG: dont be im still here  
TG: where you wanna meet up  
TG: you can have me princess ill hold you tight keep you safe lock that shit up better than knox  
TT: My apartment is indisposed.  
TG: mine might be okay let me check

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] \--

Dave sits in his beat up car, elbows on the steering wheel, and looks up the side of the mostly dark apartment building. The lights don't seem to be on in their apartment from what Dave can tell. When he's got a migraine, however, Sam tends to keep it dark. Considering their last conversation, Dave wouldn't be surprised if he'd succumbed to one. Dave shakes his head. He fumbles for his phone again and starts typing out a response to Rose, not bothering to check and see if it's true.

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] \--

TG: no go mine meet me at the hotel a couple blocks from yours ill drive you back in the morning not ideal but gonna have to suffice  
TT: That sounds amenable. I will see you shortly; I'll get our room.  
TG: sure you got it i can pay im no cheapskate  
TT: Nor am I. I would hate to give misogyny the upper hand by not enacting equal rights where I am able. Meet me in the lobby in 20, Strider.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--

 

When Rose gets to the hotel, even after procuring a room with a pair of keys, it's still not been anywhere near twenty minutes. Dave is, of course, only ever infuriatingly on time. Rose taps her foot impatiently, biting her lip. Her arms are crossed and her keys dangle from a finger; she's lost in thought as she leans against a marble pillar, scanning the lobby absently for Dave's slight form even when she knows he'll be another handful of minutes, at least. She wants a drink. Rose makes a mental note to order a bottle of wine from room service. She debates, in fact, ordering it to have it waiting for them. The afternoon had been difficult. Rose frowns slightly. Difficult was surely an understatement. Her eyes burn and she closes them, taking deep breaths to ease the burden in her heart. She doesn't know how she is going to break the news to Dave, still. She's thought about it nonstop since finding out, since confirming it, but it has brought her no closer to a tactful way to put things.

In the end, she figures she might as well go with the blunt truth. Dave is going to take it terribly no matter the words she frames it with. Again she thinks of having a drink, a little liquid courage, just to make the telling a little easier. How is she supposed to tell him that John is gone? How do you tell a boy that his best friend is dead? Rose sighs, letting her eyes fall closed.

Dave shows up looking only a little worse for the wear around the edges. His shoulders are a stiff line and he walks with purpose instead of nonchalance. He's still in work clothes, minus the apron, but the dark collared shirt looks good on him with the sleeves cuffed and the collar open. He visibly pauses, taking stock of Rose with a quick up and down scan, before he reaches for her hand. His own is warm and a little sweaty and he squeezes carefully. "Hey."

Rose's eyes open, surprised. "You startled me. As good as ever at sneaking around, I see." Dave makes no reply, quiet. Rose gives Dave his own once over, taking in the wrinkle of his brow, the tight line of his shoulders. She squeezes his hand before letting go and weaves her arms around his waist to pull him close. She's glad to see him, although her heart is so heavy with the news. She endeavors to hold the weight until they get to their room, maybe even a little longer. She's not putting it off, no. Rose is waiting for the right moment in time. This is what she tells herself.

Pulling away, Rose drops the key in Dave's hand with a brave smile. "I figured we could go for something a little less dodgy this time around, a few more of the creature comforts if it doesn't offend your sense of frugality too much." She trails off, biting her lip that is already a little chapped from doing the very same thing all too often lately. She's not actually certain how things are for Dave with him being more closed mouthed than usual but she assumes it's nothing good.

"Implying my choice of venues is less than tasteful. Classy as fuck, just what I've come to expect from you." Dave shrugs the slightest bit, hand fisting around the key until it goes white knuckled. Rose looks down, away. "I wanted to bring you," he stumbles on the words, starts to say 'home', but catches himself, "To the apartment but shit was kinda indisposed." Another shrug. He thinks about taking her up to the roof, his roof, and spending a hot, sticky afternoon there just basking in the sun. In the light, the two of them can just sit and be together, all his crowbros free to come and hang out. He wants that, but with Sam and Aria in the apartment, it'd be stupid to even try. There are other roofs, sure, but that one is _his_. It reminds him of the sibling he doesn't have, that never really existed, and that he still misses terribly. 

The awkward silence hangs around them, Dave lost in thought, Rose too hesitant to pull him out of it. Ultimately Dave has to shake the thought off himself, distracts himself with another look over Rose. She's still fine, isn't she? No new marks? 

Satisfied that she is, Dave lightly touches her cheek, the barest caress, and slips by her to lead the way to their room. "444," she murmurs, even as he already makes for the stairs.

Rose follows him quietly, crossing her arms snugly across her chest as if she could physically hold back some of the weight threatening to drag her down. Her chest burns. In her breast pocket Rose has a printed copy of the obituary. The paper is folded into a tiny paper crane, a final homage to John's passion for the sky. As they walk up the several flights of stairs she wonders if it will be too much for Dave. She wonders exactly how poorly he is going to take it when she knows he is decidedly going to take it poorly.

Dave unlocks the door easily, backing into the room and taking Rose by the hand to pull her to him. The door drifts closed, the lock clicking quietly as Dave presses his lips to her neck in something that is not quite a kiss, and lingers there, just keeping her in his arms. It's so stupid, taunting himself with what he can't really have. Rose shivers and clasps her hands together behind his back, appreciating his warmth. "I'm glad you're here."

Dave sighs against her neck, nuzzling there. "Missed me, huh?" Rose hums in approval, arching her back and pressing closer to him. He huffs a dry laugh. "Yeah, of course you did. Can't get enough of this fine Strider body, I know how it is, It's hard to be this swag all the time but I manage. It's a hard job to shoulder but it's the burden I have to bear. But hey, you get to reap the benefits here, you've got me all to yourself, my undivided attention, my sole interest." Dave makes a face and closes his mouth; 'Stop babbling, Dave, jesus,' he chastises himself.

"You carry the weight well, clearly. I am aflutter with amazement at your abilities and surely blessed to be in the presence of one such as yourself." Rose allows herself a small smirk, though her eyes are hooded and tired, dark circles showing there. "Tell me, how was work?"

Dave shrugs slightly, touching his thumb to the circles under her eyes. "It's a job. It's whatever. Can we just not talk, save it for later or something?"

Her eyebrows arch. "If you'd like. What do you have in mind for the interim?" Rose tangles a hand in his hair, looking through the mirror translucence of Dave's shades, trying to find his red eyes hidden behind them.

Dave snorts softly, pressing his lips to Rose's. "I'm sure you can figure it out, think of something, right?" His hands move towards her hips and Rose lets it happen. "It's pretty much what we do when we get together like this, isn't it? May as well skip the pleasantries, just get right down to it. Chalk it up as common occurrence. This shit could become rote." He's babbling again.

Rose smiles, sadness coloring the expression. "I wonder if I should start charging you if you feel a sexual encounter is all I'm good for. I don't think I like the booty call implications, regardless, though compensation might make it more tolerable." Her brow arches, prompting him for the response he's fumbling for.

"Jesus, princess, are you telling me you're hooking now? I'd rather you be a booty call than a whore. Shit, both of us have a little more fuckin' class than _that_." He shakes his head. "Besides, you can't tell me you aren't satisfied with the job I do. You always seem pretty pleased, hell, I'd go so far as to say satiated, and I always keep you safe. That should be payment enough." 

Her lips press against his cheek tenderly. Something is already wrong; his heart really isn't in the banter. "That is very true," she concedes softly.

Dave sighs himself, drawing her a little closer so he can kiss her again. He trails his fingertips down Rose's neck, over her collarbones and her breasts. Instead of being comforted, being turned on even, Rose feels the weight of her pocket and sighs.

She has to tell him. 

Rose pulls away slightly, keeping Dave's hands as she pulls him gently toward the spacious bed. "Let's lie down."

Dave sighs again. "Yeah, sure." He shakes his head and lets her lead him, sitting down heavily on the bed. He doesn't know what the hell he's even doing anymore. His head is a mess, time ticking away too loudly for him to even think.

Rose eyes him critically. "What's happening in that head of yours, Dave?" she sighs softly, perching next to him to brush the hair off his forehead.

Leaning into the touch, Dave sighs once more himself. "Not a damn thing, princess. Not a damned thing at all." Normally he's a hell of a lot better at lying than this but he doesn't even have the energy to put in the effort.

The corner of her mouth ticks, and she pauses. "Come here." Rose beckons him closer, drawing him near. She wraps an arm around him, winding herself close. "Better?" Dave winds his arms around her waist, leaning into her. 

"Yeah." Dave takes a deep breath and kisses her neck. "...Thanks."

"Shh." She threads her fingers through his hair again, lips pursed in thought. "Mind giving me a clue of how bad things are at home?"

"You're not my therapist, Rose," he hedges.

"I'm not trying to be. I've been carefully avoiding any contact with mine for obvious reason, I wasn't sure about yours," she tries, offering up information in hopes that he will follow suit.

"Right as rain. Couldn't be better." He shrugs slightly. "I don't want to talk about it." This time, at least, the lie sounds almost believable. 

Her heart sinks. "Can I do anything?" she offers, raising one shoulder in an unsure smile.

"I'd say we should just have sex but I don't even know if that'll help. The ticking's so goddamn loud." Dave shakes his head. "It's almost time and," he trails off, lip twitching. "I'm tracking down Harley; she's been hard to get a bead on. With all of us together maybe we can make a better plan. Shit. I'd almost be willing to ask Egderp for help." Dave laughs tiredly, no humor to it, and runs a hand through his hair. "You catch up with him yet?" he asks, looking at Rose suddenly.

Rose makes a conscious effort not to wince but the hope lurking on Dave's face in the slight lift of his lips, the arch of his brow, makes it very difficult. Her heart finds its way to the pit of her stomach and settles there, throbbing convulsively. " _'Ay, there's the rub,'_ " she quotes under her breath, closing her eyes hard against the wave of tears that threatens.

Dave turns his head to look at her properly, confused. "Sup?" He can feel her tense, wonders what bad news she could be baring. "Haven't been able to find him yet or something?" Dave curses under his breath before doing it again a little louder. "Shit. Maybe he's not in washington anymore. Did you try looking out of state?"

She continues as though she hadn't heard him interrupt. " _'For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause.'_ " Her hand hovers over her breast pocket, fingers trembling as she digs for the paper crane and presses it into his hand. "I had to do a lot of research, Dave."

Dave shakes his head, his heart dropping. "No." Again he shakes his head, swallowing hard. "No." He takes a few shaky breathes, closing his eyes. He's careful with the crane but refuses to look at it. "This is just a prank." He laughs weakly, fingers twitching. "Damn, didn't think you'd help the kid out like that. Haha though. Funny. Morbid, but funny. So hah, joke's over now, tell me what he said when you talked to him." Dave swallows hard, looking at Rose almost desperately.

But Rose sits, perfectly still, her eyes cast towards the scuffed carpet of the hotel room. Her hands are folded delicately in her lap. She waits for Dave to accept the truth.

"...Rose." Dave sets down the crane, takes her hand instead and squeezes it. "Rose, come on, the joke's over. It's even less funny now. I know the macabre is your thing but I'm not into this brand of humor, all right?" Another hard swallow and he just barely resists the urge to shake her. "Rose," he tries again. "... _Rosalyn_!" He winces at the way his own voice raises, hands going tight around hers. "What...did he say, when you talked?" he asks haltingly, struggling to get the words out when it feels like his ribcage is a vice around his heart and everything else, squeezing and squeezing.

"Dave, he was off the grid. I called his old number; it's been transferred to a stranger. His home number was disconnected and I couldn't find his father anywhere. I spent weeks in and out of libraries, looking desperately for some sign of him." Her voice goes from sad to exasperated and back again. "All I could find was this, from the online periodicals section of his old town library." The floodgates have been opened as tears flow freely down her cheeks, although her voice remains mostly steady, to her credit. "It's from several years ago. Dave, I'm so sorry it had to be this way..."

He's shaking, minutely, but it's there. "He can't be dead, Rose. He's not supposed to die." He pulls her close anyway, letting go of her hand only to wrap his arms around her completely. His own tears are falling and he hates himself for it, but at least she won't see. "How?" he chokes on the word, visions of corpses not his own behind his closed eyelids.

"He was in an accident with his father. He pushed Mr. Egbert out of the totaled car before it went up in flames, but was pinned beneath the dashboard himself. The article speaks to his heroism." She hiccups, burying her face in the collar of his shirt. "David, I'm so sorry."

"Fucking...!" Dave sniffs loudly, clutching Rose closer. "Goddamn fucking Egbert..." He can't take this. He was afraid of talking to John, seeing him after so long when they were supposed to be best friends, but this. God, this is so much worse. Dave feels like his life is falling apart all around him. "Had to go out like a fucking hero. Idiot. Stupid, derpy, fucking _retard_!" Dave shouts. His fingers press a little harder against Rose's skin, clutching. Though she winces, she doesn't push him away; these are bruises she can live with. 

He can't do this. Dave doesn't know if he can do this without John to back him up. Rose is a mess, a plaything to the horrorterrors, Jade is feral and half mad and shit, that was only the last time Dave had checked and that had been years ago, and Dave. Dave swallows hard, forcing himself not to think about his own problems, about the corpses, about the ticking, about how fucking close they're cutting it. How is he supposed to lead them without John? When they're all such a hot mess?

Dave had been so concerned about what he'd say, how to apologize without just saying sorry, and suddenly it doesn't matter because John is gone. John is _dead_ and he's not coming back this time. Dave has to make his own way.

For once when the two children of Derse share a hotel room, share a bed, they don't have sex. Dave and Rose end up tangled together in their grief, the crane somewhere in the sheets, forgotten, between them.

Rose wakes up alone.


End file.
